


A Concealment of Being

by Tridraconeus



Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Old Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 02:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17377766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tridraconeus/pseuds/Tridraconeus
Summary: “Some secret mission. A leisurely walk to a sleepy town to investigate what is most likely a false alarm?” Strix shook his head. “We’re old and broken down. Maybe this is how the brass puts us out to pasture.”Viktor laughed and elbowed Strix in the side. “Say what you like, but we’re not that gray yet.”





	A Concealment of Being

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charbax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charbax/gifts).



> eheheh  
> for char, who requested pain.

“Some secret mission. A leisurely walk to a sleepy town to investigate what is most likely a false alarm?” Strix shook his head. “We’re old and broken down. Maybe this is how the brass puts us out to pasture.”

Viktor laughed and elbowed Strix in the side. “Say what you like, but we’re not that gray yet.”

Strix finally cracked a smile. “Really? And what is this, _Vitya_? Snow?” He reached to pull Viktor’s hair. Viktor smacked his hand away. His turn to shake his head, and note that Strix’s hair was sprinkled with strands of gray as well. They’d been together for so long—years, it seemed, together through upheavals and disasters, first teammates and then something more. Years. _Years_ of Strix waking up next to him. Warmth pulsed in his chest, and he forgot his annoyance.

“Just give me the map.”

* * *

 “What is this place?” Strix spoke like he was underwater. Viktor heard him, but distantly, and had to strain until Strix came close enough that their shoulders touched. Warmth pulsed at the point of contact.

“Odnoliub,” Viktor responded. He knew that, at least. The jumble of letters would have felt strange in anyone else’s mouth, but it looked like the town he grew up in and it sounded like the town he grew up in, and if he closed his eyes and walked forward he was fairly certain he would track the roads of the town he grew up in.

Strix looked at him strangely. “Was the map faulty? We’re supposed to have gone to—“ he paused. For as clever and dedicated as he was, Strix was not an expert with maps.

“Vedriti.”

“Vedriti,” Strix echoed. “We’re lost.”

Viktor sighed. “Let’s check into an inn and we’ll make further progress tomorrow.”

Strix grunted—long years of knowing him meant that Viktor easily interpreted the assent for what it was. They checked in to a small, cozy-looking inn; the innkeeper handed them two keys, both for the same room, so they satisfied themselves with that.

The room they were sent to didn’t look like much. There was a bed, and a dresser, and a window with a gauzy curtain the color of roses. Strix entered first; as Viktor turned to close the door, he heard the barely-there sounds of practiced footfalls, but when he turned the noise ceased, and so did Strix.

Viktor pursed his lips. Strix didn’t often do this—sometimes, it was unconscious, the urge to be cloaked and safe in a new, unfamiliar place.

“Strix?”

Usually, he would get a reply. Perhaps Strix was playing?

Viktor chuckled, shook his head, and set his pack down on the dresser to get ready to sleep.

“You’ll end up in bed with me soon enough.” He called to the empty room. It remained still, with no reply.

Viktor climbed into the bed, under the covers, and was asleep before he knew if he was alone or not.

* * *

 Viktor didn’t often wake up to the sun shining through drapes. The red tinged the whole room, not severely but instead a lighter, softer pink. Strix was still asleep with his head on Viktor’s chest.  

“My love,” he said, quietly, almost a whisper; caught in the moment, the softness of the bed and the warmness of Strix against him. Strix’s groan as he woke up, the scratch of stubble against Viktor’s palm. “Good morning.”

Viktor remembered only the barest details of arriving in the room, of falling asleep. He should be discomfited, he knew, but it was hard when nothing seemed to be wrong.

“Mornin’.” Strix grumbled into his chest. Viktor combed fingers through his hair, dark and feathery, and finally shifted around—it was time to get up.

They ended up dressed and bleary-eyed at a café. Viktor spread the map over the table.

“So— I knew I should have written down our mission assignment, heh. Any chance you remember?”

His leg ached. It knotted and stung and burned. It had been injured a month ago. Viktor had no idea how he’d made the walk to this place he didn’t—but did—know without screaming. It would scar.

“I don’t.” Strix rested his chin in his hand. “Let’s case the town. Maybe we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

So they did. The day drew on and Viktor searched the town, talked to people, and got nowhere. Strix seemed to have gotten nowhere as well, and by the time they went to sleep together Viktor was too exhausted to notice he was alone.

* * *

 Viktor had just gotten used to not sleeping alone, and so waking up by himself wasn’t—well, it wasn’t a blow, but it gave the impression of an itch that he had no idea how to scratch, and he couldn’t find the person who was usually so willing to lend a helping hand.

He showered and dressed. He was getting old, he reflected—there were lines on his face that didn’t used to be there, and his beard was distinctively salt-and-pepper. No time to worry. Time marched on, and so did he. His leg ached, a phantom pain, something he should remember but didn’t—he leaned to check, and found only unmarred skin on his thigh.

He brushed it off as sleeping in an odd position.

Viktor tucked some coin into his pocket and left the room, descending the stairs and leaving the cozy inn.

Ah! There he was—Strix, sitting on a bench with a cup of coffee.

“Strix!” Viktor paced over, and extra spring in his step. Strix looked up and fixed him with what he would almost call a glare; it wasn’t angry, but it was hard and calculating, and wholly unlike the softer gazes Viktor had so recently grown used to.

“Commander. I’m going over our mission notes right now.” Viktor didn’t know what to say. Commander? Had he done something to make Strix angry? Was Strix reconsidering what had been a pleasant normal for a few months? When Viktor said nothing, Strix lifted a brow and continued. “I can’t find any reason for us to be here. When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” Viktor responded instead of anything else. Instead of what he wanted to say.       

Why?

Memories, howling behind his head, pushed through—for however long. They weren’t supposed to _be_ here. They were supposed to be somewhere _else_. They were supposed to be _together_. Memories, harsh and sweet, unfitting for the man he was.

“I love you,” he said, suddenly, like he may never get the opportunity to say it again—would forget it, like Strix had apparently forgotten _them_. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll love you for longer still.”

Strix was—bemused. Not hurt. But confused. Not upset. But not understanding. Viktor felt his throat close up. 

“I love you,” he said again, and turned to leave before he could say anything else.

* * *

 For as long as he could remember, Viktor lived here. It was homey, and cozy, but it was small and somewhat lonely.

Viktor saw a man sitting at one of the tables outside. He had long black hair tied into a neat ponytail, dark green stripes under his eyes; to ward off the sun. A sniper, then. He didn’t remember much from what he used to be, but he knew characteristics of soldiers well enough.

He tugged on the lapels of his jacket, checked that he didn’t have any smudges on his face in the window of a shop, and sauntered over to say hello.

They talked like old friends, for hours. Strix mentioned he had a place on the outskirts of the town, away from the inn where Viktor was staying, that they could go to. Viktor agreed.

For the first time he could remember, he didn’t go to sleep alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments and kudos. I eat them.


End file.
